Mischief Managed
by MysticFangs08
Summary: Black doors of steel slam shut, locking themselves from the inside, never opening again. Whoever said "I'll take this secret to my grave" either was lying or never had any friends. Burdens can't be carried alone, even with another never lightens the load
1. Year One: The One Who Was Saved

Mischief Revived (Harry Potter) Year One: The One Who Was Saved

**(First off, this story goes through JK Rowling's books, Canon all the way through until the end of book seven. Except through the eyes of an OC that came from two canon characters, that will be revealed. She is the daughter of two canon characters. This idea came to me as I was thinking of a Pre-Hogwarts story. And if I told the prequel first then I would give away her shocking parents and that would be absolutely no fun.**

**And I know that I will get reviews "you're just copying the books" no, Im not, I'm using the books, which quite a few authors do except they do it through the eyes of a Major canon character. Which, technically I am doing. There are still two unnamed Gryffindor Girls in Harry's year that were never named, but stated were there. So this can be considered a minor canon. My point is, I will use a minimum of actual lines from the books, which will be the perfect, plot breaking lines, all will have a bold X after and will be sited in the end of the chapter. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this!! And also, this character will in no way shape or form contradict anything Jo had wrote.)**

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"Please, just give me my daughter. She's all I got left." A soft quivering voice spoke above the rubble.

"Sorry, but I 'ave strict orders from Dumbledore ta take 'em to him." The young man held out his arms in plea.

"Please, Hagrid, give her to me." A tear fell down the half-giant's face as he watched the broken father. First his wife, and now this. He turned his back so he didn't have to look at the man any longer, sat on the motorbike, turned the key and the engine roared. "HAGRID!" The bike lifted off the ground and sped into the dark, cloudless night, with difficulty, ignoring the tortured mans screams.

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A tall, thin man with a long white beard that went past his belt line stood before the doors of a large, castle like figure. A stern looking woman with square glasses stood concerned beside him. "How can we place her here? This was the place that her mother despised the most." The elderly man blinked slowly, contemplating his answer.

"Her mother has fond memories of this place. Even if the best things did not occur within it's walls."

"So, even under it's new management? You still believe in her living here? Her father is fully capable of taking care of her." His woman companion was very keen on not allowing the young child to live here. She stared in the twinkling blue eyes of her companion and immediately her lips pressed together.

"You have to trust her mother's judgment. She requested if she were to pass, her daughter was to live here."

"But she wasn't anticipating her husband still being with us, and her entire extended family to be dead!" McGonagall was on the verge of tears. She loved the child's mother very much. A rumbling caught off the elderly man's response. Out of the sky, seemed to regurgitate a small figure, steadily becoming larger. The dot turned into a figure, the figure turned into an overly tall man atop a flying motorbike. The man touched down on the ground before the two adults, stepping off the motorbike.

"Everythin' wen' withou' hitch." The large man had seen the elderly man once before that evening. A small pink bundle stood out to the two as they huddled around to see the bundle. A small child slept peacefully within her warm blanket. Small hot pink curls stuck out from beneath the pink blanket.

"Did she...! Dumbledore!" The stern woman turned to the elderly man in exasperation.

"She always did have an odd way of expressing herself. If I recall, she had a particular talent in permanent hair color sticking charm, that will be with her for life." Tenderly the man reached out and opened the young child's fist. A small, dark mark that looked like two W's pushed together. If another young baby put their fingers into the loops, they would match up perfectly.

"Is that where he held her hand?" The woman asked, unsure of the answer. She had never seen a mark of such odd shape. The elderly man named Dumbledore nodded slowly. Shaky hands took the bundle and headed towards the doorstep. The large man had cried all the tears in his broken heart as he had flown over Europe. He had said his goodbye's before he had touched down, so to not bother Dumbledore.

The bundle was laid upon the cold stone step before a towering black door. A letter was pulled from inside long robes and gently placed upon the slightly snoring baby. "Good night and good luck, Fiona McKinnon."


	2. Year One: Magical Mishaps

Mischief Revived (Harry Potter) Year One: Magical Mishaps

"The bell tolls for thee, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, this is my funeral march, to my destiny, I chase my destiny..." The three chime bell broke her song, Fiona looked up from under her black hood, the sun had risen without her knowledge. It was six a.m, time for breakfast, if you could call it that. In single file line, the "residents" of Laystel Children's Home stood outside their rooms, waiting for inspection. A stout man walked through the halls, a long steel ruler in his hands, checking into each room for unmade beds, or specs of dust upon the floor. If he spotted the most miniscule thing out of place, you received a slap on the behind with the ruler.

Then, it was time for breakfast, where a half bowl of plain oatmeal was pushed in front of each child. On normal days, a larger boy pushed Fiona out of her seat, and swallowed her oatmeal before she could bat an eyelash. There was no use telling the advisors any longer, it always resulted in either an entire week of extra rigorous chores by the advisors, or a black eyes by Salvor, the bully of Laystel. A boy who was large by both muscle and fat, with long greasy black hair, which was nearly as long as hers.

At eleven years old, Fiona was much smaller then even some of the younger children at the orphanage. The advisors always blamed it on the age, said she still had growth spurts to go through. Fiona blamed it on the mal-nourishment, which no one would believe, because most of the other children were average weight. But many of them of those children had been adopted at least once since their stay there, and had been generously fed out of love for their new companionship. Fiona had never had that Privilege.

Many accepting parents were always disgusted by her outward appearance. Covered in black from head to toe, the only thing that stood out was her hair. An almost hot pink layer, covered by several indescribable shades of pink. This alone would turn off any wanting eyes. But if that didn't work, then her attitude did. Fiona never smiled, never spoke, never looked at other people. She didn't want to be accepted by the outside world. And she most definitely did not want to get adopted. She didn't want to be attached to a new family, she was going to stay here until she was sixteen, where she could flip all the advisors off, and walk out, a free woman.

Fiona sat on the swings during their recess period. No one dared come near her, except for one unfortunate soul. Salvor stared almost hungrily at her as she looked blankly at the dark, hard soil.

"Hi, Fiona..." His voice was hoarse with thirst, something seemed to be growling around her. "Doing anything... exciting?" Fiona made no reply, she only continued to stare at the ground, a small centipede was crawling across a rock. "What's the matter?" Just as the centipede ascended over it's obstacle, a large foot crunched the insects exoskeleton, it's blood mixing with stone, guts, and dirt. "What's the matter, wolf got your tongue?"

Fiona looked up as Salvor leapt towards her, his eyes were a crimson red, an insatiable hunger pierced through her as he stared at her. She was his next meal. Something willed her to live, and invisible force pushed him backwards, sending the animal flying through the air, smashing him into the brick building. The breath hitched in her lungs, as she stared at the broken body across the park.

Fiona fell to her knees, pressing her right hand against her chest, trying with all her might, to settle her breathing. Her childhood asthma was acting up again, she could only pray that Salvor wouldn't wake up anytime soon.

--

Fiona laid on the lumpy bed, of room 316 of the Laystel Orphanage, the same bed she had slept in every night for the last ten years, ten long, lonely years, ever since her parents had dumped her there. She couldn't remember her parents at all, but sometimes, when she would strain her memory in the late hours of the night, she could remember a flash of green light. But where could that green light possibly come from? But tonight, she didn't think about that, she could only remember the broken body of Salvor, trying on the hot asphalt. She had caused that, she was a monster.


	3. Year One: Savior or Omen?

Mischief Revived (Harry Potter) (Year One) Chapter Three: Savior or Omen?

The summer months had rolled in, but that didn't lift Fiona's spirits. The afternoon classes were over, but they were replaced with afternoon chores, which consisted of inhumanly hard labor. But Fiona was always in charge of the rose bushes that lined the area of the orphanage, so she couldn't complain. The beautiful bushes of mixed blood red and rare black roses lined the fences. The reason the outside of this place was so beautiful was all her creation, one of the few things she could be proud of in these sullen days.

Salvor was still in the infermarey, rumors were spreading that he had died, other people stated that he had been moved to a different medical facility. No one except the advisors knew the truth, really... A shadow covered her entire body as she leaned over the dark soil around her roses. Fiona turned around, and stared at a pair of thick hide boots. The back of her head touched her shoulder blades as she stared up at a gigantic man what was blocking her sun.

"Wow, 'have ya grown up? Las' time I saw ya, ya was jus' a tiny baby." The man smiled to himself happily. "Ya look jus' like yer mum, but ya have yer dad's eyes." He had a very thick accent that she did not recognize.

"You knew my parents?" No one had ever talked about her parents before, no one. "Who are you?"

"Sorry 'bout that. That must've been righ' creepy, big guy like meself comin' up on ya like tha. I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." Fiona blinked... Hogwarts.

"I have no idea what you mean."

"Call me Hagrid. I tol' ya, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts - you'll know all 'bout Hogwarts o' course." The giant man stared down at her, analyzing her face quickly. His face went from blank to angry in 3.7 seconds. Fiona had to sprint to keep up with the giants long, quick stride. His frying pan sized fist slammed onto the oak front desk. The clerk jumped and shook noticeably as he hunched under the glare of the big man, he had always been a fidgety man anyway.

"Where is Alania?!" The clerk fumbled through a small book.

"Sh... she's in a... m-meeting right n..."

"Get her here... now!" The clerk nodded quickly and scurried off to the meeting room down the hall. Moments later he came back with the head of the orphanage. She stared at Hagrid with those stone grey eyes, that cold look plastered on her face.

"Hagrid, so wonder to see you... again. What can I do for you?"

"Don't give me tha' dragon dung Alania, yer tellin' me tha' ya never tol' this child wha' she is."

"She's too young. We felt she didn't need to know until she can understand what she is being told."

"Ya had a job."

"That we never agreed to." The giant slammed his fist down once again.

"Wha' do ya take me fer! I read tha' letter an' I know tha' Dumbledore talked ta ya befor' we brough' her here." The landlady stared icily back at Hagrid.

"When you put her in my care, it was only my job to find her a loving family. It was not my responsibility to tell her of her oddness." A pink umbrella was pulled out of his large overcoat and was pointed into Alania's face, nearly touching her nose.

"There is nothin' odd abou' her! She had the greates' parents the world has ever seen! She's been down on Hogwarts lis' ever since she was born!"

"What are you talking about?" Hagrid looked down at the small, pink haired girl. "What's Hogwarts." Hagrid sighed and scratched the back of his head.

"Fiona, you're a witch." He was blunt and to the point and it hit her like a brick. She was a witch?

"As in magic witch?"

"O' course. Yer mum was part of the bes' wizard family the world 'as ever seen. And you'll be goin' ta the best Wizarding School ya can go ta." Alania turned around, ready to go back to her business. "Where do ya think yer goin'?"

"To file the paperwork. She's your now from the letter that was left." Hagrid blinked slowly.

"She needs some place ter go in the summer." Alania continued walking.

"If she leaves, she can never come back." Hagrid grumbled to himself then turned back to Fiona, who was blinking to herself. She was leaving?

"Ya ready ter go?" He turned around and began to leave. Fiona didn't budge.

"I'm never coming back?" Hagrid stopped and looked back.

"Unless you'd rather stay o' course." Fiona smiled and ran after the giant, leaving behind the orphanage, hoping, forever.


End file.
